


I Never Knew

by RunningNinja



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Half-Galra, Introspective First Person, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:59:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningNinja/pseuds/RunningNinja
Summary: “I never knew what it was like to be anything but Galra. I was only ever half, but that was both the half I hated and the half I couldn’t avoid becoming. But then I found someone who was everything I couldn’t be, half-Galra but fully human: Keith.” Not a ship-fic, if you can believe it. Just introspective first person about Acxa’s motives on not killing “the one with the flippity hair.”





	I Never Knew

I never knew what it was like to be anything but Galra. I was only ever half, but that was the half I hated, and the half I couldn’t avoid becoming. My mother’s family never let me forget the blood I didn’t share with them, even if I shared their horn-like ridges in my hair. Their words got under my skin, which they saw as purple but I saw as blue. 

Eventually, I became what they said about me: angry. Traitor. Only motivated by my self-interests. I couldn’t find the will to prove them wrong, so I became what they knew I would be.

I hated them, hated my home planet, and left for the skies as soon as I could. There was nothing left for me there, not even under the quiet tree where I would listen to the wind and find peace in the breeze. 

_“I’ve been kind of lost… I found myself drawn out to this place.”_

It was no home, not anymore. And it never was, I told myself when I missed those turquoise skies.

_“…Who are they?”_

Up in orbit, I found something to be a part of: the Galra empire. It was a cold kind of family, where all the members were motivated by their drive to serve the emperor. Unyielding fealty, that’s what they asked of me. I said yes, but I crossed my fingers behind my back. Then, Lotor saw me: a young and promising fighter. At first I thought he saw me as a person, an ally. But he only saw me as a tool. I saw that early on. It was cold, but I could work with it.

I decided that must be the Galra way, and I would be the tool Lotor needed: and I would do it well.

Unyielding, every step of the way I wanted to know who I was. I hadn’t been like my mother’s race, the Uteca, and I didn’t feel Galra. Eventually, I pushed aside any soul-searching and found work in the empire around me. Lotor accepted me. He was no friend, of course, but he wouldn’t do us generals harm without good reason. He was a calculating man, and I could track his motives.

Perhaps my father had been like him. A Galra man, once in love with a peace-faring race, then shamed by his Galran roots for his fondness for a subservient species. Ashamed enough to leave those loyalties behind. In the end, we all went into the stars with our own needs on our mind.

“I need…to procure some scultrite,” Lotor said to us one day. 

I did what Lotor asked me. Xethrid, Ezor and I drew straws for who would enter the belly of the Weblum. They thought I didn’t notice, but they rigged the game. Of course I noticed. I’m no idiot. And because I’m no idiot, I held my peace. I’d even the odds eventually, if I wanted. Besides, a nice little flight out into dead space didn’t sound bad. It was quiet out there. Dead quiet. Almost peaceful, if not cold. Being inside a disgusting worm was a problem I’d deal with when the time came. And so I went into the belly of the Weblum for the sake of Lotor’s great master plan. I went head first through the mouth—not recommended. Badly damaged, I made it to the second stomach. In some ways, that crash landing was the best thing that ever happened to me.

I lay in that wrecked ship, comms broken, as the Weblem weaved its insides around my cabin, attempting to absorb whatever nutrients it thought my ship held. I knew that if I got out of the cockpit the creatures of the Weblums digestive tract would kill me slowly. So I sent a distress signal to Xethrid and Ezor and bided my time for rescue. A little too much. I miscalculated. The Weblum began to digest the ship so much I could no longer open the hatch.

I lay there, and then he appeared. The red paladin. I expected him to pass the ship over. I hoped he would. I lay there, unmoving, knowing that if he saw me alive, he would probably kill me anyway. That was the Galra way, for us and for those who found us. If I let him pass by then maybe I could wait for Lotor to look for me.

_“Impossible.”_

But Keith wasn’t stupid. He checked the wrecked ship for a survivor. And he found me.

_“Stand back,”_ he said, raising his sword. 

He must be stupid, I thought, if he thinks a sword can pierce the front of a windshield made of Galran glass—

Oh, so he’s not stupid. He just has a weapon that good.

I let him lift me from the ship, let him take my weapon. But he didn’t kill me. And I didn’t kill him. I saved his life, even.

_“I…guess you can keep your weapon.”_

One life-debt for another, clean, easy, no strings attached. It was the most productive acquaintanceship I’d ever had, all in five minutes. Just like Lotor, I didn’t trust him, but I could work with him. And then point my blaster at him when the time was right and I could escape.

But before then, I learned something about him.

_“He doesn’t talk much. And he’s Galra.”_

“What, do you all know each other?” The yellow paladin sniggered. 

So Team Voltron had a Galra member. A loyal spy would add that information to their group’s intelligence. I never did.

Inside or outside the Empire, the people who were kind to me despite knowing what I was, whether that be half-Galra or half-Uteca, were few and far between. And they always had a motive. Always.

_“We can’t just leave him here, even if he is part Galra.”_

Keith was wrong. He could leave me. He was Galra, after all. We can’t all be like the paladins. I knew what the rest of the Galra were like, what I was like: cold, unfeeling, only looking out for their own interests and the interests of others when it benefitted them. So, his buddy out of range, I shouldered a bag of scultrite, pointed a gun at him and left.

_“So you’re just like the rest of them.”_

_Yes,_ I thought. But as I turned my back, I sent a hope into the void: The first I ever had. _But maybe you don’t have to be._

At the time, that hope was about him.

I jet-packed away to the nearest rendezvous point where Xethrid and Exor waited for me.

“You’re late.”

“Got held up,” I said. “Happens to the best of digestive tracts.”

“I can’t believe you went into the belly of a whale.”

“Weblem, Ezor. Not a whale.” Xethrid’s voice was hoarse, as always.

“Still, you look like you’re covered in something. Did you even go to decontamination first?”

“I’m on my way,” I said, dropping the bag of scultrite and stepping into the decontamination shower. I washed away more than Weblum-muck that day. I started to think that half-Galra had more to be than Blades or cogs in the Empire.

I saved Keith’s life again, at the Kral Zera. I tried to kill him several more times, but he proved to be a better fighter than I’d expected. And I was glad Keith was never counted among the people I’d killed. And he proved to not be all that interested in killing me, which was useful.

Keith planted a seed, but it took the death of Lotor to teach me that I didn’t have to be like the rest of the Galra, and that inside, I wasn’t. Xethrid and Ezor wanted money where I wanted to stop fighting. I had to make my own way.

When I saw him again, after I tracked the green paladin’s radio signal, I remembered why I’d deserted. The paladin in red had given me a cold kind of hope.

_“She saved our lives, we can’t just leave her behind.”_

That was the hope. That I was more than a pawn. That I was not disposable. That I was worth going back for.

“She’s always been sweet on the one with the flippity hair.” 

First off, Ezor, on Uteca that’s the haircut of a grieving warrior. Not exactly “flippity.” And second, “sweet” and “I don’t want to kill him” are not the same sentiment.

“Aww, so it is true love.” Xethrid and Ezor were always cruel to everyone but each other… and Narti.

I only said I admired Keith as a fighter and a pilot. Never trust Xethrid and Ezor with anything. I should have learned.

_“Can’t we just fight?”_ Keith said, charging them, bayard drawn.

And that’s what I like about him. He gave me something to hope for. Something to reach for in myself. And then he saved my life again.

“I hope this, in some way, makes up for the wrong I’ve done,” I said to Keith.

  _“Thank you. For saving us.”_ And he smiled.

A night’s rest and a few supplies from the paladins, and I am now heading back out into the blackness of space, once more the bearer of a cold kind of hope. But it’s less cold now. There’s something for me to fight for again, and this time, I actually want to.

I do what I can to help the coalition. Espionage, mostly. The already fractured empire begins to crumble. Keith kills Zendak. The last bits of Zarkon’s legacy disintegrate. The gladiator pits gather dust, and then are destroyed all together.

There is news on the radio. The paladins have taken back Earth. Earth is no longer a primitive planet, and open for interstellar migration.

And so I go to Earth, to the only Galra family I cared about. Not because they are my family, but because maybe they could be: Keith and Krolia. I cared because they were the only Galra I knew who had risen above the weight of their blood. I wanted to be a part of that. I needed something to hope for, and this hope didn’t feel cold anymore here on this planet with a yellow sun and blue skies just like Uteca.

The paladins are a strange species. And despite being half-Galra, Keith is as human as the rest of them. Resilient, unwilling to yield even against insurmountable odds. Where the Galra say “Victory or death,” it is as if the paladins say “Freedom or we keep fighting.” They would die for each other, die defending people they’ve never met and not because they owe them a life-debt. This selflessness runs in their very veins. And it is what’s strong enough to stop the Galra. Not the robot lions and the Altean technology and magic. It’s what makes them human that makes the paladins strong.

I wanted what they had. Call me selfish, and it will be true. But heading to Earth was the best thing I’d ever done for myself. Have ever done.

So here I stand, watching Keith and Krolia at his father’s grave. And I know why I’m here: there is nowhere else I’d rather be.           

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I thought it was interesting to explore Acxa’s POV: she’s a fascinating character. I normally do 3rd person stuff, but with Voltron I feel the need to do 1st person sometimes, as was the case with this and “To Steal a Car.”
> 
> Leave a comment to let me know what you think! I’d love any feedback, including on the format of the introspection and then the dialogue cuts.
> 
> Ninja Out.


End file.
